Lebensraum
by ZWTFmate
Summary: Nazi German leader Adolf Hitler had great plans for Ukraine, the rich breadbasket of Europe, as a Lebensraum  living space  for the German nation. Nazi!Germany/Captive!Ukraine
1. Prologue

**Hey guys. So this is a story that's been buzzing in my head for a while. And for those who are reading Dirty Little Secret, this has nothing to do with that story. This is... a LOT darker. **

* * *

The sun shone bright. Brighter than it had in such a long time. It peeked through white cotton-candy clouds, hiding for a few moments then reappearing as if to say that it was still there. The air smelled unnaturally fresh, like the beginning of something big was happening today. And it was. She knew it.

She stood on the empty road, looking far away for a sign of them. There had been apparent sightings of them marching from Poland, one branch heading straight to their land. Her people spoke of it in excited whispers, a growing wave of hope coming over them all. She felt it too. And it excited her like everyone else.

She glanced down at her tattered, patchwork dress. It was the nicest one she owned, though she couldn't consider anything she owned "nice". Soviet rule had left her people- and her- poor and struggling. And the latest famine, starving her people to death, it was too much. He had said it was "Merely an accident.", but she knew better. And she had had enough. Though a part of her regretted feeling this way toward her brother, the other, larger part knew that she needed to get away. And perhaps this advanced, cultured army could help...

Her eyes brightened when she saw what looked like a dark line, growing larger and taking the shape of many men coming toward her. She suddenly felt very nervous, brushing the skirt out and shifting the gifts from one arm to another. When they drew close enough to see her, she straightened and put her best smile on, praying that she wouldn't mess this up.

In the front of the line, ahead of everyone else, was a tall blonde man, eyes a bright enough blue that she could see them, even from afar. His steps were long and strong, his powerful body moving in a way that made it look like the others were following after his example. He walked with a sense of authority and stature that she had never seen before, and it intimidated and excited her at the same time. She watched as he came closer and blushed a little, noticing how very handsome he was.

They continued walking forward, their marches loud and eerily synchronized as they soon were right on top of her. The man in front just barely saw her, calling out something in German and causing all the men to halt at the same time, merely a few feet from her. Her heart pounded in her chest and something in the back of her mind gave her the feeling that if he had not stopped them, they would've walked right over her...

She shook her head and smiled wider, stepping toward the man in the front.

"G-guten tag, sir..." The German words were muddled and horribly accented. She had learned it specifically for this moment, but she didn't realize how bad it sounded until right now. "Welcome to the Ukraine... Please accept this gift as a token of a h-hopefully prosperous friendship between our countries." Here she held out the gift, traditional bread and salts, considered a sign of hospitality to her people.

The man looked at her then at the present in her outstretched arms, expression apathetic. Her smile faltered. Maybe he wasn't who she was supposed to talk to, or perhaps her horrible German offended him...

Then to her relief, his face broke into a warm smile and he took the gift from her. "Danke, Miss..." His voice was deep and gentle. It sent shivers up her spine. "This is... Very appreciated."

She held her hands behind her back, practically beaming at his reaction. "Da, you are very welcome... May I know if you are the nation of Germany?..."

He blinked, smile twitching for less than a moment before it grew all the wider. "Yes, I am. You may call me Ludwig. I assume that I'm having the... _pleasure_ of speaking with this country's..."

"Da. Yekatrina Braginski." She nodded, thinking over his name. It was... nice? No, there was another word for it...

"I see. Well, Miss Yekatrina, my men and I need rest and food. If you could be so kind as to show us where we might be able to stay." It was not a question. It was not a request. It was an order.

She just didn't realize it. "Of course! My people are more than willing to lodge any of your soldiers and accommodate them in any way. And... You are welcome to stay at my home..." She blushed and looked down when she spoke the last part. She had planned to invite him since the beginning, but when she actually said it, she felt like a young girl with a silly crush. Well, maybe she was...

He made a soft chuckling sound."Danke, Miss. I would be honored." He tilted his head slightly, those stunning blue eyes looking into hers with a warmth that she couldn't explain and that smile which seemed so comforting.

At that moment, she decided she trusted this man with her life. She truly believed that he was the answers to her prayers, that now that he and his army was here, everything would be OK.

_If only she knew..._

* * *

**R&R, please.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey. So here it is. I'm not sure about this chapter (I rarely am about most of my chapters), but I kinda like parts of it. IDK.**

She sat in the burning ruins of the house. Huddled deep into a corner, so far in she wouldn't have been noticed at first glance. When she was spotted, all that anyone would've seen was a dead woman, she laid so still. Scared to breathe, scared to move, scared to do anything.

She brought her knees closer to her body, wishing to just disappear. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were here to help her people, not _kill_ and _enslave_ them. They were supposed to be their saviors... _He was supposed to be her savior..._

_ S_he froze, hearing the sound of footsteps pass right outside. Her breath chilled and laid in her chest, her body clamming up. She could almost see them, cold mechanical beings, faces void of any emotion or response to the world around them. Anything remotely human was removed with the guns they held tight to themselves or aimed at at someone. She stayed still until the horrible synchronized marching died away and the only sound was the wind howling through the broken walls.

The breath blew quietly out of her and her gaze dropped to her clothes; ripped and torn and stained with blood. Whose blood, she had no idea. Could have been hers, could have been the soldiers', could have been that child's who left this world in her arms.

She hugged her legs again, the tears that never seem to end poured down her face. Her world was ending. It was ending and she was hiding like the coward she was. How could she not have seen this coming? Not even expect it at all. She was so blind, so weak..._ He was so nice... So warm..._

She was so deep in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the door open, or the soft thudding of heavy boots walk to her, or the quiet demand for her to stand up. She did, however, feel the sharp pain of someone grabbing her arm and pulling her roughly to her feet. She gasped loud, almost a sobbing sound as her eyes flew up and widened in terror.

"N-n..." She couldn't even speak. Her voice was cracked and trembling, like she hadn't used it in years. Maybe she hadn't. She didn't know what day it was, or how long she had been sitting there. Hours felt like days and days felt like years lately.

She fought uselessly against the grip, trying to pull her body free. She gave a grunt of mangled frustration. She was once so strong, at one point even stronger than her brother. What had happened? Her body weakened with each tug and her nails dug desperately into the gloved hand. The body that belonged to the hand gave a low growl and shook her violently.

"Enough." Ordered the deep voice she had heard so many times before. But back then, it was sweet, comforting, beautiful. Now it was hard, lined with contempt and hatred. _But still, beautiful..._

She stopped almost immediately, eyes downcast so the tears fell onto the dirt ground. Her hand still clawed into his, but it shivered and ended up just holding it. She wished his hand was like ice, so she could at least pretend he wasn't who she thought he was. That this was a cold heartless copy, and not the man she once knew. But his hand was warm and alive under her touch, causing her heart to inexplicably break all over again.

For a long time, they stood like this. She cried quietly, tremors racking through her every once in a while. He stood there and let her cry, eyes roaming about with a contemplating look, as though he was trying to decide something in his mind. Her body ached from fatigue and pain, and she began to teeter toward him without realizing it. He instinctively stepped away, a disgusted sneer crossing his face.

"...Nein." He muttered and raised his hand. It flew down and she heard a crack and sharp pain. Then her world went black.

He watched the woman crumple at his feet with cold eyes. He didn't hit her hard enough to kill, but she wouldn't wake up for a few hours. He checked the butt of his gun. It was a good gun, simple yet efficient. He would've hated to get any Slavic filth on it. He nodded, relieved that it was still clean, and looked back at her.

_How pathetic. _He thought, stooping down. Her dirty hair fell in her face, a jagged blonde curtain hiding her bruises and cuts. He used the barrel to shift the strands from her closed eyes and swollen lips, eyes wandering the once porcelain skin. She breathed soft and slow, and she looked almost peaceful... That would change. Very soon.

He frowned at that thought. He didn't mind a lot of things about his job, but this... This he NEVER looked forward to. His boss just didn't understand, what he had to _do_ to conquera nation... He had considered doing it here, but the state of both her an the surroundings would just make him sick. Well, more sick than he already was at knowing that he must...

He sighed and holstered the weapon. No use in feeling sorry for himself. He just needed to get it done with. Slowly, and with great reluctance, he reached down and lifted the unconscious nation bridal-style. Her body lay slack in his arms and her head lolled onto his shoulder. Eyes fluttered for a moment, cracked lips breathed a soft moan into his ear. He felt himself shiver.

He made his way out of the crumbling building slowly and with no real care. The road was mostly empty, save a soldier here and a cadaver there. He walked with slow strides, not a noise around but the crunching of dirt under his feet and the crackling of the flames.

In the corner of his eye, he could see movement on each side of him. Small movements, like someone peeking out of a broken window, or a door creaking open just a little. He couldn't see the bodies or faces, but he knew they were there. The Ukrainian people, hiding in their broken homes with broken spirits, watching him pass. He knew their eyes went from him to her and back slowly, over and over. He could practically feel the despair radiate off them And at the image of their Country, their Mother, limp and lifeless in the arms of a uniformed monster, he knew that any hope they might of still harbored, still lingered on in their minds, was gone.

He felt their gaze on him until he walked out of their sight.

**R&R please**


End file.
